


Basketball Day

by emmagrace13



Category: Andi Mack (TV)
Genre: Basketball, Bullying, Crushes, Fluff, Friendship, Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 12:13:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14694012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emmagrace13/pseuds/emmagrace13
Summary: It's the monthly game of basketball for PE at Jefferson Middle School.  What happens when Cyrus is put on a team with a group of bullies and T.J. has to come to his rescue?





	Basketball Day

**Author's Note:**

> Request by gynny: A bully is mean with Cyrus (not necessarily because of his sexuality) and TJ is pissed.
> 
> I apologize for the extremely long wait. I really liked this idea, and it was a very fun idea to play around with. I hope you enjoy it!

On the third Friday of every month, Jefferson Middle School’s gym coach allowed ( _forced_ was a better word in Cyrus’s opinion) his students to partake in a monthly game of basketball. This usually enabled the Good Hair Crew and Jonah to form a group of their own (mostly Buffy and Jonah played, although Jonah was admittedly not that great at the sport, while Andi and Cyrus would stand idly by, making sure it looked like they were participating whenever their coach threw a glance their way.)  It was the perfect setup; everyone got the chance to spend time with their friends, and no one got hurt! However, on the third Friday of April, the group’s normal routine did not play out like they had expected it to.

“Cyrus, come on!” Andi groaned, dragging her best friend Cyrus towards gymnasium.  Getting Cyrus to come to gym was probably the biggest chore of all of the responsibilities that came with being Cyrus’s friend.  That boy did _not_ like PE.

“I don’t wanna!” he whined.  He stumbled over the threshold as she dragged him towards his inevitable doom. 

By the time that gym had rolled around that Friday morning, Cyrus’s day was already off to a bad start.  He had missed another opportunity to possess one of the much coveted chocolate chocolate-chip muffins, he hadn’t gotten the grade he had wanted on his most recent algebra test, and, even worse, Buffy was missing _school_.  

It was a rare occurrence for his best friend, and Cyrus felt naked without her at his side.  Of course he missed her, and it was tough to face the day without her random quips about Ultimate Frisbee, or her unrelenting support, but nevertheless, Cyrus wholeheartedly approved of her absence.  She was finally getting the opportunity to spend the day with her mom, who had just returned from her lengthy deployment, and Cyrus knew how far and few between chances like this came for his best friend.  His only worry was that him, Andi, and Jonah might have to find a fourth team member that they didn’t really know well, or one that didn’t know them that well, either. Those people usually made fun of him.

Once Andi _finally_ got Cyrus past the entrance and into the gymnasium (Andi had to bribe him with tater tots from The Spoon, but the trade was well worth it in her opinion), she ordered him to stay put while she went to go look for Jonah.  Cyrus watched her run off into another direction, and he felt his heart begin to pound. He hated being by himself.

In order to calm his nerves, he began glancing around at his classmates, looking at potential prospects for a fourth teammate.   _This is good_ , he told himself as his heart rate began to decrease steadily.   _Just keep…_ oh _._

Cyrus’s eye caught on a certain basketball player, and his heart stopped altogether.   _T.J. Kippen._

Cyrus watched T.J. run a hand through his effortlessly tousled hair as he talked to a group of what Cyrus assumed were his friends, and he felt an unexplainable urge to touch the boy’s wavy, chestnut locks.  Why did it look so _soft_?  

Cyrus blushed when T.J. fleetingly glanced his way, and he ducked his head to conceal his flushed cheeks.   _That was a close one_ , he thought to himself.   _Be more careful!_

Post-bar-mitzvah, Cyrus could admit that his feelings for T.J. had grown into something… _different_.  Something that made his heart pound in his chest, his palms sweat, and his words to get stuck in his throat.  And, maybe, something he couldn’t entirely label just yet.

Somehow, it felt a little different for what he felt for Jonah, or used to feel, that was.  Whatever feelings he had harbored in his heart for the Frisbee player were now shifting to T.J., the most recent object of his affections.  It was all so confusing, and even more so when he couldn’t talk to anyone about it (besides Andi and Buffy). Cyrus longed for the day where he could be open about his huge secret with everyone; especially his family.  It was starting to become really hard to keep such a huge secret from his four shrink parents…

Before Cyrus could finish his thought, a bell-like laugh emitted from the basketball player, and the butterflies in his belly stirred uneasily at the sound.  He loved it when he witnessed T.J. being happy and lighthearted.

Prior to having been introduced to him (he was still calling him Scary Basketball Guy at this point), Cyrus caught glimpses of the brooding basketball player in the halls or in their few shared classes.  He had always wondered what T.J.’s problem was. Was being the captain of the basketball team too much pressure on him? Was he struggling with family problems? Or was he just a jerk that didn’t care who he hurt?

However, upon meeting him, Cyrus was surprised by how _kind_ T.J. was to him, a complete contrast to how he treated Buffy.  He never would have guessed that the same basketball player who was so spiteful to his best friend would even be capable of being caring and comforting, let alone to _him_.  

In the end, Cyrus learned that T.J. had a learning disability, and he also felt inferior compared to other students (like Buffy) academically and physically, which caused him to lash out.  It was almost hard to believe that someone that held himself up so high and mighty on the outside was actually hurting pretty badly on the inside.

Cyrus was broken from his thoughts when he noticed T.J. begin to slowly turn towards him, and suddenly everything felt like it was in slow motion.  His heart rate began to climb rapidly; this was like the part in the cliche rom-com where the main protagonist met her love interest’s gaze from across the room, both of them thinking about how they were each other’s true love.  Granted, Cyrus wasn’t a girl, and T.J. would never be into him like that, but still, a boy could dream.

When T.J. fully faced him, he caught Cyrus’s eye, and the corners of his mouth upturned in a slow smile.  T.J. raised his hand and waved endearingly at him, and Cyrus internally swooned. He grinned widely back, beginning to return the sweet gesture, but T.J.’s friend pulled him back into their oh-so-important conversation before he got the chance.  

At the sudden loss of interaction with T.J., Cyrus frowned. _You can always talk to him later_ , he thought, trying to console himself.   _It’s not like it’s the end of the world._ Except it was.  It always was the end of the world in his mind.

In order to hide his disappointment, Cyrus busied himself by untying and retying his shoelaces.  In his case, they could never be knotted _too_ tight!  It was a good distraction, too, from all the surrounding rambunctious students that were making his stress levels rise unnecessarily.

When the remaining students finally joined their peers in the gymnasium, dressed and ready to go, their gym coach stormed in with a clipboard in his hands.  

Instead of waiting for them to settle down their chatter naturally, he blew sharply into his whistle, and the noise pierced the air with its shrill tone.  Cyrus winced at the sound, and he shrinked back as the coach glared at all of them. He didn’t think he’d ever seen the coach so mad. _Well, except for yesterday,_ he added in his mind.

“Everyone quiet!” the coach demanded, causing a group of eighth-grade boys to pause in their obnoxiously loud conversation.  They smirked at each other, not seeming to care about their obviously frazzled coach. “Because of an incident that occurred during yesterday’s game of flag football,” Coach Anderson said, shooting a not-so-subtle glance at the boys that were just talking, “Dr. Metcalf has requested that _I_ assign teams instead of allowing you to do it yourselves.”  

At first, the students were baffled into silence.  They weren’t allowed to pick their teammates? It was the most absurd thing they had ever heard!  Then, all at once, the middle schoolers outburst at the new rule, causing chaos within the spacious gym room.  

“You can’t do that!”

“That’s not fair!”

“Why should we all get punished?”

A jumble of complaints and cries about the coach’s decision went on and on, and Cyrus prepared his ears.  He didn’t have to be a genius to predict what was going to happen next: _one, two…_

The coach blew whistle, effectively silencing the middle school students. “Enough!” Coach Anderson barked as the middle schoolers covered their ears in discomfort.  “Let’s get this show on the road, shall we?” As the students shuffled nervously, shifting from foot to foot in anticipation, the coach began to call out groups. “Team 1 is Andi, Gus, Denise, and Jonah.”  

Cyrus gulped, and his panic began to rise in his throat.  How had Andi and Jonah been put together but not him? And what was he going to do?  What if he got stuck with someone he didn't know? Or even worse…someone who would tease him…  

Cyrus tried to shake his worries away, albeit unsuccessfully.  Why was he born with a tendency to worry about everything?

He glanced over at T.J., and he longed for the boy to be on his team.  T.J. always knew how to make him feel calm with his presence (except when Cyrus allowed himself to get worked up about his feelings for the boy), which was a welcome change from the constant anxious frenzy inside of his mind.

As the coach continued down the list, Cyrus got more and more distressed.  He had originally hoped that he would get paired with some of the classmates in his grade (at least he’d know them), but most of them had already been called.  Even T.J., his last hope, had been assigned to Team 4. The day seemed determined to be a nightmare specifically designed for Cyrus to endure, and painfully so.

After calling a few more names, Coach Anderson finally gave the answer to the question that Cyrus had been uneasily waiting for.  “Team 6 is Cyrus, Kyle, Aaron, and Cameron.”

Cyrus felt his stomach clench.  He had never even talked to any of these boys, but he had a feeling that they wouldn’t be too accepting about having him as their teammate.

Aaron was the only one out of the bunch that was from his grade, although they had never talked.  Aaron seemed decent enough, from what Cyrus could tell. He was quiet, and he kept to himself, but that wasn’t a bad thing.  

Cameron, on the other hand, was a different story.  Cyrus hadn’t talked to him either, but he knew that Cameron was the captain of the soccer team.  From the horror stories that Cyrus heard about him through Buffy, he was even more ruthless than T.J. had been just a few months ago.

Even so, Kyle was the most callous of them all.  In fact, Cyrus and the rest of his peers had witnessed the boy’s cruelty first-hand during flag football yesterday.

It had started out as a normal, innocent game; Buffy was dominating as usual, Jonah was attempting to follow Buffy’s strict commands in order to appease her (she was the team captain, after all), Andi was continually trying to keep up with their teammates (how exactly did one play flag football, anyway?), and Cyrus was cowering in the corner in order to stay out of everyone’s way.  He wasn’t really sure how to play the game, and it looked too intense to actually partake in. And there was a lot of running. He couldn’t deal with lots of running.

However, the one rule Cyrus _did_ know about the sport was that there was no tackling allowed.  But, as the game progressed, it was apparent that this rule was _not_ being followed by his classmates.  By the end of the class, one kid had a bloody nose and the other had her glasses broken beyond repair.  All because of Kyle and his corrupt band of jerk friends.

When inquired by Coach Anderson and Dr. Metcalf, Kyle played off his offense as ‘an accident,’ claiming that him and his buddies had gotten excited in the midst of the game and tripped, crashing right into their poor victims.  Dr. Metcalf and Coach Anderson suspected foul play, but because there was no evidence to support their suspicions, they were forced to go along with it. However, this clearly was not stopping their principal from taking the matter into his own hands.

“Cyrus?” Andi asked, nudging him.  Cyrus shook himself from his thoughts.  When had she shown up beside him? “Are you going to be okay?”

Cyrus glanced worriedly at the coach, who was already chastising a student that had requested a switch.  He frowned, but tried to hide his trepidation from his best friend. _You’ll be okay._ “I’ll be fine,” he insisted, reiterating his own thoughts aloud.  He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince more: Andi or himself.  “Go have fun with Jonah.” Cyrus forced a smile upon his face, but he could tell that she saw the insincerity behind it.  

She looked questioningly at her friend.  “Are you sure?” she asked. “I can talk to Coach Anderson if you want…,” Andi offered unsurely.  Her eyes wandered over to the coach, and Cyrus saw her corners of her lips dip down as she watched the teacher reprimand their classmate.

“It’s fine,” Cyrus promised, feeling his stomach churn even more.  He couldn’t believe he was going through with this. “Go, I’ll be okay.”

Andi gave him one last worried glance before squeezing his arm.  “Good luck.”

Cyrus bit his lip as she jogged away, running towards her teammates.  He needed more than good luck for what he was about to endure.

As Cyrus began to stroll over to his own teammates (reluctantly, he might add), he took deep breaths, only focusing on taking one step at a time.   _Right foot, left foot, right foot…_ He was so concentrated on walking that he didn’t even realize when he bumped into Kyle.  At the contact, he ricocheted off of the boy’s freakishly tall body like a pinball in a pinball machine, and he stumbled backward, barely managing to catch his balance.

“Watch where you’re going, Goodman,” Kyle said cruelly, still chuckling.  Cyrus ducked his head to hide his bright red cheeks, and he silently cursed his entire existence.  Why did he have to be so _clumsy_?  

After he got his brutish laughter out of the way, Cameron nudged Kyle.  “Come on, man, let’s get started!”

Kyle agreed.  “Okay, how about me and you versus Owens and the dweeb?”  Cyrus winced when the bully referred to him as ‘the dweeb’.  More than anything, he wished that Buffy were here to defend him.  Even if he hated confrontation, being insulted to his face stung more.

Cameron shrugged.  “Sounds good to me.”

As the team began to play two-on-two, Aaron and Cyrus versus Cameron and Kyle (like the latter had arranged, with no objection on Cyrus or Aaron’s part), Aaron tossed the ball to Cyrus, who hurled the ball towards the basket as well as he could possibly manage.  The basketball missed its intended target completely, landing pathetically three feet away from the goal.

Kyle snickered at the sight as he plucked the ball in one fluid motion, and Cyrus almost envied his gracefulness.  “I bet you can’t even hit the backboard!” he taunted, laughing harshly. Cyrus grimaced at the sound. He wasn’t one-hundred percent sure what the backboard was, but he was certain that whatever Kyle had just said wasn’t a compliment.  “Why do you even take gym if you’re such a girl?”

Cyrus resented his comment, and not just because Kyle was insinuating he was girly.  Taking gym wasn’t even a _choice_.  If it had been, Cyrus would’ve definitely would’ve taken any other class.  He tried to point this out, too. “Actually, it’s a state requirement—” he tried to input.  Before he could finish his statement, he was cut off by Cameron.

“What a loser,” the boy remarked, sniggering along with Kyle.  Those two had sure become fast friends, Cyrus noted. If only they hadn’t bonded over making fun of him.

Cyrus looked helplessly towards Aaron, but the boy wouldn’t look him in the eye.  Aaron’s reluctance to help him made his throat tighten, and tears pricked at his eyes.  How was he going to handle anymore of this by himself?

As Kyle and Cameron bickered about who’s turn it was to check the ball (whatever that meant), Cyrus took a deep breath to calm his nerves.   _You can do this, Cyrus_ , he assured himself.   _Just ignore them._

It was easier said than done.  While Cameron was trying to pass the ball to Kyle, Cyrus shuffled across the gym floor awkwardly, hopping from side-to-side.  He wasn’t trying to block Kyle from receiving the ball; in fact, he was trying to get out of Kyle’s way so that he didn’t have to encounter his wrath, or be his next victim of PE crime.  However, in the midst of his getaway plan, Kyle stuck out a leg, causing a clueless Cyrus to trip and stumble onto the hard gym floor below with a loud _thud._

Cameron and Kyle chortled at the sight, both exchanging a sadistic smirk.  “Look, he can’t even stand up without falling over!”

Cyrus squeezed his eyes shut, wishing that he could be somewhere, anywhere else other than right here at this very moment.  Their grating laughter consumed his senses entirely, and he almost missed the squeaking of sneakers echoing from the gym floor behind him.

When Cyrus felt a hand come down on his shoulder, he apprehensively opened his eyes, seeing none other than T.J. Kippen himself staring down at him with a worried expression, his lips dipped downward and his brow furrowed.

T.J. bent down to his level, maintaining eye contact with the boy in front of him as he did so.  “Are you okay?” he asked Cyrus in a quiet, yet urgent, voice. Cyrus felt a sense of security wash over him as he stared deeply into T.J.’s gorgeous green eyes, and he felt a warm tug in the pit of his stomach.   _No. Please help me. I need you._

When he opened his mouth to answer him, Cyrus found that no words would come out, so he settled for a trembling shake of the head.  At that single motion, T.J. rose, bringing Cyrus up with him.

“What did you guys do to Cyrus?” he asked accusingly.  His hand never wavered from Cyrus’s shoulder, and Cyrus gulped as the butterflies in his stomach swirled uneasily.  

Kyle put on an innocent facade, speaking fluently without guilt.  “I have no idea what you’re referring to, T.J.,” he said, giving an easy-going shrug.  Cyrus couldn’t decide if this kid was a good actor or a pathological liar; probably both.  “Goodman here just has a little trouble with sports. I think he’s a tad girly. Or should I say _she_ ,” he joked, getting Cameron to laugh along with him.  Cyrus felt T.J.’s grip on him tighten in anger, and he wished that he could grab the basketball player’s hand to help comfort him in return.

“Says the guy who didn’t make the basketball team this year,” T.J. shot back.  Kyle choked during his fit of laughter, and his face turned an angry red at T.J.’s comment.   _Someone has a bruised ego_ , Cyrus thought to himself.

“You’ve become so lame since you’ve been hanging out with this loser,” Kyle sneered in retaliation.  

T.J. was clutching onto Cyrus so tight that he was bunching up the boy’s gym uniform in his hand.  “You guys are the losers,” he retorted, releasing Cyrus of his grip. “Come on,” T.J. urged him, seizing his hand defensively.  “You’re playing on my team today.”

Cyrus was completely floored.  It was one thing for T.J. to risk his reputation for him, but for him to risk getting in trouble, too?  It was too hard to comprehend. “But…Coach Anderson said—”

“I don’t care what Coach Anderson said,” T.J. interrupted, tugging Cyrus forward.  He paused in his tracks, consequently causing Cyrus to stop in front of him, only mere inches from his face.  T.J. searched Cyrus’s eyes, and the basketball player’s mouth melted into a gentle, sweet smile that made Cyrus’s heart leap in his chest.  “You’re playing on my team today,” T.J. confirmed, as if to relieve any of the lingering anxiety in Cyrus’s mind.

Cyrus took a deep breath before relenting.   _If you say so._ “I’m playing on your team today,” he repeated, the words passing softly from his lips.  Maybe Cyrus had a newfound appreciation for basketball day after all.

**Author's Note:**

> *sighs dramatically* WHEW! Glad I finally finished writing that. I’ll be working on my other prompts, and I’ll try to get those done for y’all soon. Thank you so much for reading this prompt and don’t forget to comment below or to read it on Tumblr (@cyrusgoodboye) or fanfiction.net. Thank you!
> 
> ~emmagrace13


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